Okay, perhaps clarification should be made about the so-called Breakfast of Champions. There is a sweet tooth that whispers to me throughout the week. I try to hush it up with Good-Girl Sugar-free Popsicles. Over the weekend the sugar jones grows more insistent, and loud enough to drown out my popsicles. By Sunday night, I'm dreaming of cheesecake. At which point Monday morning arrives, and the first thing I do to kick off the new week is toss down a ho-ho, some cookies, a little ice cream, or a pound cake to meet my weekly ration of sweet treat.
Whatever junk slides down ye olde gullet is carefully documented. For example, five Thin Mints pack 200 calories into the deceptively slender chocolaty wafers. The Rice Krispy Treat? 90 calories. At which point the whole "earning my food" kicks in so I can walk off the calories. Not to say that this sorts of breaking of fasts would be recommended. Or even entirely habitual. The Monday between the cookies and the crisped rice goody was unremarkable with it's fairly standard breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and a slice of whole-wheat, sugar-free bread. Either way, I am pretty sure some commercial or print ad has told me that women who eat breakfast are more successful when it comes to managing their weight.
Rationalization at its finest. Oh, yeah.